


Family

by FictionalFeather



Category: Naruto
Genre: Gen, I guess it can a three-way relationship if you squint, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-11
Updated: 2013-04-11
Packaged: 2017-12-08 03:29:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/756499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FictionalFeather/pseuds/FictionalFeather
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Sasuke returns, and Sakura deals with it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Family

**Author's Note:**

> Written for 15_Family over on livejournal.
> 
> Now, I haven't been watching the anime, but I've had this finished for a while, and as of this moment, chapter 627 was just released. I don't want to spoil anything, but those of you who know what I'm referencing will understand why I had to get this out immediately before it really just wouldn't make any sense anymore.
> 
> So anyway, this is my take on how Sakura will react to Sasuke's return and the develop of his and Naruto's relationship.

1\. Honeymoon  
The day Sasuke returned was the worst of Sakura’s life. Not knowing how she was supposed to react, having him meet her eyes and walk right past, then spending the day obsessing over the outcome of the trial, whenever that would be. She felt so lost, more lost than she could ever remember feeling and in a way she’d never imagined would happen, not with Sasuke. His return was supposed to have meant her happiness, the reunification of Team 7. It was supposed to fix everything.

But he’d sat in prison while she’d cried on and then punched Naruto’s shoulder for no other reason than that she was just so confused. She wanted to see him, to talk to him, but what could she have said? She’d begged Tsunade for leniency in his trial, but free will or not, Sasuke’s return could not pardon him from the damage he’d done. And aside from that, the only people in the village not bent on his immediate execution were the Konoha 11, plus Kakashi and Iruka.

So she’d kept away from Sasuke until the day her heart stopped at a sentence that included the words ‘chakra restraint’ and ‘ANBU guard.’ Standing there hugging him, even though he couldn’t have hugged her back whether he wanted to or not, his heart and against hers and his chin on her forehead with Naruto’s arms around them both, made it real for the first time.

 

2\. New Additions

Things didn’t go back to normal. Whatever semblance of normality Team 7 could ever have accomplished had been destroyed the moment Sasuke had received that curse. But…even before that, Sasuke had been a brooding soul looking for revenge. Why should she have expected change?

Because she and Naruto had both changed. She was no longer the naïve, useless one, and while Naruto still hadn’t learned the meaning of the word tact, he had grown so much as a shinobi.

And Sasuke had grown, in his own way, just as much. The difference being that nobody had been around to see it. This was a Sasuke nobody had ever met before. One that wore civilian clothes and telltale bonds around either wrist, and gave no outward sign that being banned from carrying weapons bothered him. One that began the impossible task of community service with the stoic calm that was so close to refreshingly familiar, and had gone so far as to land a job at a bookstore. It was so easy for Sakura to see that this was only a way for him to fill his time and stay out of his own mind, his reparations owed being only a distant object set upon a shelf in his consciousness, but the fact that somebody had given him a job gave Sakura the most sincere hope she’d felt in a long time.

 

3\. Children

She remembers with mixed emotions the day she met Kakshi’s new genin team. Three too-small children, basically clones of how they’d been at that age. The girl, Hanako, was quiet, and almost embarrassed by the fact that she picked things up so much faster than her teammates. Tetsuya was a storehouse of energy, to the point that any pair of experienced eyes could see that he’d be known for formidable speed if he could only settle down to actually learn something.

Then there was Kenichi, the boy who lagged behind and would rather think every situation though before acting, and Sakura had realized within minutes of first seeing the team that she’d been the Kenichi of Team 7. The odd one out, the one being rescued, pushed to the back until she’d finally learned how to be her own person.

Back in their genin days, Team 7 hadn’t been the equal distribution of power hoped for when the teams had been made. Yes, on the surface there had been Sakura’s intellect and Sasuke’s skill to balance out Naruto’s lag, but underneath that, nobody had bothered to think about what would happen when two boys with so many volatile emotions stuck inside were mixed together and forced upon a girl who, compared to those boys, had led such a sheltered life – she, at least, still had a mother.

Nobody liked to admit that they hadn’t foreseen the consequences, not when they’d been so dire.

She couldn’t have said at that point, watching Kakashi torment three new kids, whether Sasuke would ever outgrow his dislike of those weaker than him enough to take on a team. He’d be expected to, at some point, once he was back on duty (and that was one of those things Sakura didn’t linger on, mixing Sasuke and shinobi life in her mind). Naruto would be assigned three children from the next graduating class, or so Tsunade told her, and even somebody as socially inept as Kakashi had taken teams before them, albeit short-lived ones. Maybe she was just a little jealous, because taking the route of med-nin meant she wouldn’t follow their typical route of training a genin squad, but more than that, she wanted to see her teammates thrive. They both had incredible legacies to share, storehouses of knowledge and skill to pass on, and she was still too hesitant, probably would be for a long time, to ask Sasuke anything regarding his name, and whether he would ever pass on the Sharingan.

 

4\. Illness

She remembers Naruto’s sickness as the time that brought them back together. And it wasn’t exactly strange that such a solemn occurrence would have that effect, because had they ever really been a normal team?

She’d gone to visit Naruto the first moment she had more than a few minutes to spare during the day – seeing as how half the village had whatever he’d contracted, they’d sent him home and confined him to bed, making sure somebody could check in every once in a while.

She’d expected much of what she’d saw – Naruto sprawled out on futon, shorts hardly covering the important bits, used tissues littering the floor, empty bowls on the table – except for the radio. It had to have been a gift, and a rather thoughtful one for someone who was bed-ridden and didn’t own one, so she’d figured Iruka-sensei had brought it. She was even more surprised when, after Naruto awoke and she had to force him back to bed, he told her Sasuke had given it to him.

When she thought about Sasuke visiting even before she had, she was pretty sure her smile matched Naruto’s when he said it.

Sakura had gone back again two days later, when Naruto was marginally better, meaning he wasn’t vomiting everything he ate or napping every hour. Minutes after she’d arrived, just as she was starting on tea, Sasuke had walked in, nonchalantly given her a nod and a ‘hey,’ then continued past her. Frankly, she was a little shocked, even as she attempted to coolly return his greeting. He would have easily been able to sense her presence even with the civilian-level access he had to his chakra, so even if she could accept the idea of Sasuke visiting his sick friend, it was a step further to wrap her mind around him willingly sitting in the presence of both his old teammates together.

Sasuke regarded her with an even stare as she brought the tea in, and she’d had to force herself to concentrate on not spilling anything, because the little attention he’d turned on her when they were Team 7 had never made her feel so uneasily spotlighted. Naruto had interrupted the terse silence as if he couldn’t sense the emotion in the room, prompting Sasuke to finish his story of the old man trying to reason his way into free books from the adult section of the store.

Minutes later and they had an easy conversation going, and though it kept notably clear of things like missions or anything else that might break the spell that had Sasuke sipping tea and swapping stories with them, it was simple. Smooth, and easy. As if Sasuke hadn’t been their enemy for years. As if he were Chuunin or Jounin and on down-time from missions instead of the man whose chakra was restrained to the point he was no more dangerous than a freshly-graduated Genin (which, technically, he still was).

Sakura had desperately wanted to ask Tsunade when Sasuke would be given any semblance of rights and pride again, but she doubted the woman would tell her anything, and she was still too terrified of his reaction to bring it up with him.

Team 7 was reunited, and they were falling into step together, walking toward the precipice of proving it could be the formidable team once dreamed of if they – but of course nobody dared to think such a thing – ever came together, but with Naruto so ill, Sasuke honorably ignoring his demotion, and Sakura running all those emotions she’d tried to lock away after Sasuke left, she thought they made a sorry excuse for a team at all.

Sakura and Sasuke left that afternoon when Naruto started yawning too much for him to brush it off. She shut the door and turned to Sasuke, offering a small smile that was the only way she could think of to simply show relief that he was back.

“It’s strange,” was all he said.

“Hmm? What is?”

“I’ve spoken with him numerous times,” – the ‘since my return’ went unspoken but not unheard- “and not once has he tried to speak with me about my past.”

“You idiot.”

The words were out before she decided it’d be a bad idea to say them, but the look in Sasuke’s eyes was more confusion than anger, so beyond a slight widening of her eyes, she hid her embarrassment and continued instead of covering her mouth like she wanted to. “It hurts him, to think about how he failed. All that time he spent training with the sole purpose of bringing you back, and you did it on your own. You didn’t need him. Of course he’s not going to ask why he was so unimportant to you.”

The last part sounded especially harsh to her own nervous ears, but Sasuke didn’t answer her, instead looking at the sky. Sakura followed his gaze, but there were no clouds to capture his attention – she wondered if maybe he was trying to pinpoint the location of his ANBU guard, singular because with Sasuke’s chakra so low and Tsunade’s constant checking up on him, the Hokage felt justified in only dispatching one at a time. ANBU were sparse, after all, especially since the war.

“Walk with me?”

Sakura looked over at him, surprised to hear him ask, but he stared at the sky a moment longer, then walked away in the direction of the Uchiha compound. She jogged to his side and fell into step with him.

Neither spoke for a moment, and Sakura thought their slow pace called to mind a naïve couple on their first date – their thoughts were all of each other, or least, hers were of him, but their bodies said otherwise: the distance between them, and the way Sakura walked with her hands clasped behind her back, like she’d done when she was a little girl. Because she was walking next to Sasuke? Maybe. She didn’t know.

She sometimes wishes she could be that age again.

“It was because of him,” Sasuke said.

The interruption of his silence startled her, but she didn’t show it. “Because of Naruto?”

“Yes.” His voice was soft, but she had no trouble hearing the conflict in it, years of keeping anything unnecessary to himself no doubt fighting with his current choice to confide in her. “If not for him, I’m not sure the idea of returning would ever have crossed my mind as something plausible.”

“Because even with the things you said to him, he kept coming after you?”

“Partially, yes. But I mostly believe I had always harbored a desire to return to Konoha after…” He trailed off, hesitating only a moment before continuing, but Sakura couldn’t help but try and fill in what he’d almost said – ‘After I decided to leave Orochimaru?’ ‘After I killed my brother?’ ‘After I found out the revenge I’d lived my life preparing for, had deserted my village for, was horribly misdirected?’ ‘After the life I’d created fell apart again?’

Then again, the fact that he’d spoken ahead of his mind and had to stop himself spoke volumes. Proof that his conflict, his confession, was real.

“I think knowing that there was at least one person who wanted me, and so much that he’d do…all of that…that made me think it was an option.”

Underneath his solemn explanation, divulged in a halting voice that hardly carried between them, Sakura heard the person inside Sasuke, the feelings he’d always refused to acknowledge: ‘I want to be wanted too.’

And more so, she suddenly just knew the one person he most wanted to be wanted by, and it _fit_.

They walked the remainder of the way in silence, but one that was filled more with simple camaraderie than unease. They parted at Sakura’s apartment – she smiled as she said goodbye, and he gave her the slightest upturned twitch of his lips, one she thinks he showed her to let her know he was becoming someone new.

 

5\. Uprooted

Sakura was again shocked at Sasuke when she found out he wasn’t living in the Uchiha compound. She’d assumed, when he’d escaped his death sentence, he’d do as much as he could to hole himself up. After all, he was still so quiet and secretive – that much hadn’t changed – and in the conversations that were gradually becoming something close to common, he hadn’t mentioned anything about his living space.

She found out by accident, really. She’d been in the civilian district visiting an old family friend – a face she’d grown up used to but hadn’t had the time to visit for a while.

The oddest part of seeing Sasuke step into the hallway and lock up was watching him use a key to do it. He’d been part of the most prestigious clan of Konoha; he’d probably never used a key in his life.

Despite the awkward scene that followed, with Sakura feeling as if she’d witnessed some secret he’d been desperately avoiding bringing up, and Sasuke giving more standoffish replies than he had in _years_ , he later told her that it had been his choice to leave the compound. Although his official residence remained the same when he returned, his rights to the property had been stripped. He didn’t own a drop of the land that had once been his family’s and should have been passed down to him, but he didn’t want anything to do with it. He wasn’t going to take steps toward regaining it.

“That’s not the legacy I want,” she remembers him saying as they shared a late-night cup of tea in his apartment. “I’m proud to carry the name of Uchiha, if only because we were once shinobi of high caliber, of pride, but I won’t stay in that place.” The dim lighting of the room did nothing but intensify the lines on his face, lines from his trials in life, and give him a desperately haunted look that made Sakura avert her eyes.

She wondered if those haunted eyes would ever be able to look happy.

 

6\. Marriage

Sakura hated going on missions. She used to not think about them either way – whether you like them or not isn’t an issue, or isn’t supposed to be. Being a shinobi meant missions. Such was the life she’d chosen.

But she hated leaving Konoha at all anymore, because she couldn’t know what was happening with Sasuke or between him and Naruto (because there _was_ something beginning to simmer there, underneath their purposefully ignorant surfaces; she wasn’t so blind as to miss it). The last time she’d been gone for longer than a month, Sasuke had been taken off his ANBU watch. That had been a scant two years after his return, so there was really no guessing when Tsunade would bring up the idea of releasing his chakra – after all, once his fate had been decided, the plan had rehabilitation from the start, because even those personally affected by Sasuke’s actions could not dispute the absurdity of having someone so powerful at their disposal and keeping him bound. And though nobody would ever admit it, the fact that Sasuke had come alone and fully conscious instead of being dragged by Naruto, both hanging on the edge of death, had been a collective sigh of relief.

Sasuke had made huge strides for himself since coming back, and Sakura watched with fascination the person he’d become. Still a loner, still reserved, but he’d lost the anger, the cold resentment he’d always carried before. He’d linger and chat with shopkeepers, even, as if he’d let go of the compulsive need to keep people away. As Kiba had put it: “He’s not such a conceited bastard anymore.”

So with Sasuke gaining his stature back a little at a time, reinventing himself along the way, and Naruto refusing to tell her whether or not he’d be entering his team in the Chuunin exam, Sakura felt she could rationally explain why she felt the need to stay nearby, but she had trouble justifying it. Not only because they were selfish reasons for feeling bothered by missions, but also because she’d spent a good portion of her shinobi life training so that she wouldn’t have to rely on others. Wanting to stay home and take care of her boys defied both her own nindo and that which had been drilled into her head in the special classes at the Academy: kunoichi have to work twice as hard at being shinobi, simply because they’re not men.

But was that mothering instinct really such a bad thing? Didn’t the responsibility of passing down their way of life ultimately fall upon the women? After all, with their life expectancy, it was almost never too early to have kids.

 

7\. “Families are like fudge – mostly sweet but with a few nuts.” – unknown

Sakura only knew about the first time they fought because she’d awoken to the sight of a masked face at her window, indicating she should follow. She’d later learn that Naruto himself had sent for an ANBU detail as soon as the yelling had started, more worried about his own self-control than Sasuke’s, but she can still only assume that she was fetched simply because of the shared history.

Not that she could have been kept away anyway, not once she heard them. Accusations and insults flying between the sounds of objects smashing or something thudding against the wall. They were fighting about Sasuke, and Naruto’s repeated ‘Why’s were so strangled and there was so much pain in both voices – one she’d never heard like that before and one she had but would never get used to, that Sakura could hardly try to stop herself crying.

She loved them both, loved them so much, and to sit there and listen to them tear each other apart, all that hurt and anger and heartache happening on the other side of those walls, while knowing all too well what that kind of hurt felt like, was crippling. She let herself cry and bite her tongue and dig her nails into her palms to kept herself silent, because if she tried to hold back any more than that, she’d tremble and have to stand to leave but end up bursting in on them instead, and she knew that if she saw their faces, saw the way they looked at each other – the years’ worth of betrayal, love, hurt, heartache, loyalty, and fear converging to this one point – she’d lose it.

So she sat and bore the pain as silently as she could. She sat and listened to the words aimed with icy precision, meant to strike right to the core of the other. She heard the accusations, the defenses, the excuses, the black and white refusal of a wronged person to allow for an insubstantial answer.

The ANBU were on edge, she could feel it even through her own turmoil, but she knew there was no need. Naruto and Sasuke had done each other terrible amounts of damage over the years; tonight was about the need to tear each other down emotionally, to finally give some tangibility to everything they’d been denying they felt since Sasuke’s departure, and again since his return.

She’d known it had to happen, and she understood why, but that was so very different from hearing it.

When the sun rose, hours after the shouting had stopped and the ANBU had left, Sakura hadn’t slept. She left at dawn and took the longest mission she could get.

She was gone before either boy saw her.

 

8\. Blood is thicker than water.

She came back from that mission feeling worse about herself, better about them. She’d needed the absence, she knew that, but she couldn’t help but blame herself, to feel guilty about running off like that. And they no doubt knew – her disappearance on another unusually long mission the day after their hellish meltdown was entirely too coincidental for them to _not_ figure it out.

She was tired of playing the mediator, always shoved back in the middle of their still-strong rivalry, and somewhat dismayed because part of her had thought they’d grown out of that dynamic, but another piece of her missed it desperately, practically longed for the familiarity, and it was this piece that produced her guilt. She’d spent so long being their sounding board, their landing pad, the one who absorbed the feelings they didn’t want to show – whether they knew it or not – and the one time when they’d have probably been wrecked enough to show her, she had run, fast and far.

But a shamefaced, bruised, and dirty kunoichi wasn’t what she wanted to show them, so she forced herself home to sleep first. In the morning, she procrastinated, trying to put together words and scenarios in her head on her walk to Naruto’s (she somehow thought he’d be harder to face), but all rationality left her when it was Sasuke who invited her in. She spent an hour having tea with them, later realizing how she should be proud of how she kept a straight face even as she watched the subtleties between them – the placid atmosphere, the casual brushes of arms against the other, the short glances and smiles shared, and the material evidence of Sasuke’s belongings taking root around the place.

She’ll always remember Naruto’s embarrassed and shocked expression and Sasuke’s smug, wry smile when she tossed her congratulations over her shoulder as she left.  
She couldn’t describe what she felt as she walked home, but she knew it felt like more than guilt had been lifted, and she knew she was smiling.

 

9\. Family Night

These were the days she’d longed for. Team 7 was back, with a camaraderie they’d never had before.

Sasuke was still arrogant, but he was caring now.

Naruto was still immature, but he was thoughtful now.

Sakura was still enamored, but she was strong now.

Except she wasn’t enamored with Sasuke anymore. No, she remembers those days with a chagrined smile. Now, she feels a loving, well-meant jealousy for both her teammates.

Sasuke was strong, no doubt about that, but he’d changed so much in the way he related to people. He was well aware that a lot of the village still didn’t trust him at all, still hated him even, and he brushed half of it off and accepted the other half as what he deserved, dealt with it, and let it go. He was loyal to those who did accept him, and Sakura had stopped being surprised at the fact that he dropped by for social visits when she realized that he had finally learned how to relate to and enjoy people for their companionship and not for their power or worth as a shinobi.

Naruto had wormed his way into her heart over the years with his endearing stubbornness, but she wasn’t surprised. He changed everyone he met, somehow. He always shined so brightly, never letting himself give up on anything or anyone, smiling as he did it. He genuinely cared about those he loved – the kind of person who meant it and expected an answer when he bothered to ask ‘How are you?’ He had become a natural charmer once he’d realized he had that effect on people, that when he wasn’t letting his immature trickster self out to piss off everyone in the vicinity, he could draw their attention with just his nature, just in the way he spoke to them, smiled at them, shined his never-ending shine on them.

And Sakura was jealous of both of them, jealous in the most non-harmful way imaginable, since she had her own merits to be more than proud of, but it was jealousy all the same.

They had their personalities (the parts they knew of and the ones only she did), they had their looks (Sasuke was still as eye-catching as ever, while Naruto was cute in a way since he’d grown into his untamable hair and rakish smile), and they had each other.

In the months after she’d returned to find them just starting down that road, she watched their relationship with wonder, completely in awe of how they slid into place, two halves of something that shone so much brighter with each other it was as if they’d been in love for years (and maybe they had been; maybe none of them could have known at the time what exactly it was that was fueling the rivalry). There were no big moments of affection, not conventionally, but the brush of fingers through hair in passing or a kiss on the forehead was plainly all they needed from each other.

(Plus Sakura wasn’t so ignorant she couldn’t infer what stiffness and a smile in the morning meant, and she saw that look more than enough to keep her from worrying about any communication issues they might have had.)

Probably the strangest thing, to her, was that she never felt as if she were intruding. She felt that with the amount of time she spent with them – training, tea, sparring, movie nights – that they’d ask her to go home for once or that she’d feel in the way, but neither happened. True, she couldn’t help but feel like an onlooker of their relationship, but they were her best friends and she loved them, and she knew they felt the same. She could tell, after they met after a few days’ absence, from Naruto’s grin and Sasuke’s small but certainly not less-than-pleased smile, not with that soft look in his eyes. It was definitely there when they all laughed and caught each other’s eyes knowingly, when they reminisced about their younger days – obsessing over Kakashi’s mask, catching that damned cat, the first time they met Gai-sensei.

And she definitely felt it when, after an exhausting day at the hospital or a trying mission, when she was plagued with memories of the war and everyone she couldn’t save, all that blood on her hands, all her fault, and she’d go to them and they’d listen to her and she’d do the same for them as they talked about their childhoods, Sasuke of his clan and his brother, of killing him, and Naruto of the days when everyone hated him and of his troubled past with the Kyuubi, the pain it caused, being a jinchuuriki. He’s scared because he so easily could have ended up being such a monster if nobody had recognized him, and he knows that he still holds that destructive power inside him. Sasuke’s scared because he remembers how he felt at some of the terrible things he’d done, and how he should have felt, and how close he was to destroying his home instead of returning to it. Sakura’s scared because she knows more people are going to die under her hands in the future, and she’d known it when she chose her path.

In the end, they’re all just scared, so they pull blankets onto the floor and Sakura always sleeps best when she’s wrapped protectively between and around the two boys who shaped her life.

 

10\. Dinnertime

She really shouldn’t have been as surprised as she was. After all, she was one of very few in the village who knew Sasuke as more than someone with the name Uchiha.  
So she more or less should have expected it when he told her didn’t want to ever see another person with the Sharingan again.

“I…what?” She put her tea down carefully.

He didn’t repeat himself but stared Sakura down until she had to look away and hold in a sigh. “You know the elders aren’t going to like this.”

He scoffed, uncharacteristic of him. “I don’t see why.”

Sakura knew the look on her face was incredulous, but she couldn’t help it – Sasuke didn’t see why the village wouldn’t want such a powerful bloodline technique to die with him?

“This isn’t just a personal decision,” he continued before she could speak. “It’s true I’ve had enough bad memories of the name Uchiha, but I’m not just refusing so I can spare myself – don’t you think the village has suffered enough because of the Sharingan?”

She couldn’t answer that. She didn’t know what to say, because she favored both sides of it – she wanted Sasuke’s clan to continue, but after the war…

“We’ve thought about it, Sakura-chan,” Naruto finally spoke, and Sakura finally registered how close the two were sitting, sides pressed together. It registered with her just how much they were both affected for them to be showing her even that much closeness.

“It’s…” Naruto continued. “We don’t want that kid to have to go through what I did.”

Sakura nodded. She could understand the fear of ostracism of a child with that legacy.

“You understand?” Sasuke asked, his voice quiet.

She nodded again. “Yes.”

“Good.”

She’d been reaching for her tea again, but seeing the smirk Sasuke wore as he stood and walked into the other room and the embarrassed expression Naruto had, she sat back again. She knew better than to think she could know what to expect.

Naruto was refusing to look at her, his fingers pressing against each other nervously.

“Come on, I know that look,” she teased. “What have you done?”

“It was his idea, too,” came the murmured reply.

“Naruto.”

“Okay!” (It was pleasing to know she could still spur him on with just that tone of hers.) “Okay..see…so, Sasuke doesn’t want kids. Well, no, it’s not that he doesn’t want, just…yeah, you know, he can’t. Well, no, I mean he can! He’s not-“

“ _Naruto_ ,” she practically growled.

“Okay! And, uh, I’m the last of my clan, and, and, we thought with my ancestry and everything…” He trailed off, his eyes flicking back up to hers every few moments, expectant even while his face was bright red.

“Okay…so you want children?”

He nodded vigorously.

“And…Sasuke doesn’t object?”

Another nod.

“…Okay?”

Naruto sighed dramatically, as if _she_ were the one being dense.

“No, see…we, uh…we can’t…you…we want…see, what it…you, would you, that is…uh…”

When it finally hit her, she was glad she hadn’t picked up her tea.

“You want me to have your baby?”

She hadn’t really meant to shout it, but Naruto cringed and Sasuke laughed quietly from the doorframe where he watched.

“ _We_ want you to be a surrogate mother for _our_ child,” he corrected and retook his seat.

She glanced between them, from Sasuke’s cool, understanding face and Naruto’s expectant, excited one.

“I…” It sounded more like a gasp than the forming of a sentence. She cleared her throat and grabbed and gulped her tea.

“How long ago did you decide this?” True, they’d been living together more than a year, longer than it took for most shinobi couples (who decided to take the route and risk) to have a kid – the constant danger didn’t leave much time for domestic bliss; if you had the opportunity to reproduce, you took it – but she hadn’t even suspected…Could they even raise a child?

“You don’t have to answer right now, you know,” Naruto mumbled, though it was obvious he only said it because he thought he should.

She understood that, in a way: she only wanted to go home and think it over because she felt like she should. She didn’t think just saying ‘yes’ right there was a good idea, because she was supposed to need time to think, right? There had to be some reason why they couldn’t do this, why it wasn’t a good idea. Was it supposed to be so simple? Wasn’t this supposed to be emotionally taxing?

“Could I…just?”

Sasuke stood. “Of course.”

They hugged her goodbye at the door and she couldn’t remember what time she actually made it home.

 

11\. Family Secrets

She laughed at herself for most of the walk back to their place the next morning. Mostly silently, but every so often she’d remind herself of coincidence of once wanting kids and then hesitating when a prospect planted itself in front of her that wouldn’t force her to find a father that could measure up to her boys, and she’d have to stifle a giggle.

Naruto went wild when she gave her answer, showing his younger self again.

Sasuke was much more sedate, but his smile was just wide enough that she counted it as the same.

 

12\. Family Tree

She’d been hoping – desperately and secretly – for a girl, but that didn’t stop her from falling hopelessly for Kazuki the first moment she saw him. She was infinitely glad they’d had the custody conversation before she’d even conceived (that had gone easier once they all realized she was going to be mothering the child whether she carried it or not). Kazuki was an Uzumaki, but while he lived with his fathers, nobody who knew them thought the child had only two parents.

Team 7 with a baby: it was surreal. Sakura was only just starting to not have ‘wait, what?’ moments every time she saw Sasuke lightly bouncing Kazuki on one hip, or Naruto settling him to sleep (something Sasuke was uproariously awful at).

They’d ended up treating the whole ordeal like an extended mission. Prepared as much as they could in advance but also readied themselves to learn as they went. And they weren’t above accepting help in the form of Kakashi. Seeing their old sensei cooing over a laughing infant was another bizarre moment for Sakura – was there un-researched correlation between being a withdrawn genius and being excellent with babies? It was well-noted, after all, that Kazuki laughed with and studied Sasuke and Kakashi, while he was a regular fussy, insatiably curious, crying baby with her and Naruto.

Kazuki grew fast. Physically he was right on par, but mental milestones were hurtled toward and decimated, though at three years old, it was difficult to tell yet if this was the collective result of so many talented shinobi invested in his well-being or simply being his father’s son. He certainly resembled Naruto already, despite having Sakura’s hair color (and they could already imagine the teasing he’d endure for that). He had Naruto’s exact blue eyes, wide, bright, and so utterly expressive.

The day after Kazuki’s fourth birthday, Naruto took Sakura aside and told her that Sasuke finally had caved, and they wanted to have a child. Together. One that was both of theirs. They had already looked into the prospect with Tsunade and decided that the risk of having the Sharingan inherited was one they were willing to take.  
Sakura was more than overjoyed, more so once she affirmed that they wanted her to carry it again. She hugged Naruto, keeping her tears – stemming from Naruto’s growth into the man she was holding and Sasuke’s change into a person not only capable of but desiring caring – to herself.

 

13\. Family Portrait

“Kazuki, go tell your sister to shut up.”

“Naruto!”

“Okay!”

Sakura sighed and followed Kazuki when he dashed toward the sound of Hitomi’s cries, but stayed by the doorway, watching.

Kazuki adored his little sister, and had so from the first time he was allowed to hold her, hours after her birth. In Sakura’s lap, he’d held her as if any wrong move from him might kill her and he’d stared at her with stunned eyes. He’d fallen easily into the role of protective big brother.

He was currently babbling on about a fight he’d witnessed between two classmates, demonstrating with a blunted kunai he kept resolutely pointed away from her. He was closing in on six years old now, and had recently entered the Academy, at that awkward stage between trust and ‘no kunai without supervision.’

But Hitomi had quieted, watching her brother, and Sakura let them be, knowing she’d fall asleep soon.

She heard the door and walked back out to see Sasuke tiredly smile into Naruto’s welcome-home kiss. The next moment, Kazuki had dashed in front of her and toward his father, but paused abruptly upon seeing the blood splatter down one side.

That had been a point of long, late-night discussion when Kazuki was born – exactly how much of their shinobi lives he should be exposed to. They’d had to bring it up again when he’d told them he wanted to enter the Academy. The final decision had been that it was the path he’d chosen, and the better that he should be acquainted with strangers’ blood beforehand than have his first kill be unnecessarily traumatic. It would seem barbaric to civilians, they knew, but such was their lifestyle. They all knew he’d grow up to be like them – technically they were all killers – and even if he wasn’t thinking about that part yet, on some level Kazuki knew it too.

So barring extremes, they didn’t clean up or hide evidence of missions, and let Kazuki do as he wished, even that time when he’d – a little apprehensively – asked Naruto the painful questions of how he’d killed the man and how it felt to do it.

“Was it a really bad mission?” Kazuki now asked.

Sasuke paused before answering, then shrugged. “I’m just tired.”

Kazuki grinned and ran to hug him, Sasuke crouching to be at his level.

While Sasuke was affectionate with his son, it was nothing compared to the reverence he held for Hitomi. Sakura didn’t doubt that he loved them both equally, but watching him hold his daughter, stroke her sparse but unmistakably dark hair, kiss her forehead, and watch her long after she’d fallen asleep, there was something she couldn’t quite fit into the portrait she’d made of Sasuke, and she found herself continually reforming it, sometimes adding shadows where she hadn’t seen them before, and sometimes covering whole facets in off-white to start over.

Whatever the reason for Sasuke’s closeness to his daughter, his little girl, Sakura hoped for his sake as much as Hitomi’s that the dark hair and _dark_ , dark eyes were all she could claim from her Uchiha heritage.

So this was life now. She still lived separately from Naruto and Sasuke, but between their children and her work at the hospital, her apartment was barren, and served only as a place to sleep. Sure it seemed deviant to others, the way they blurred the lines between friends and lovers, but the boundaries existed, even if nobody else could see them. Her motherhood aside, Sakura was privy to their relationship for reasons even they couldn’t put into words. She wasn’t a part of the romance between them – there was a bond there she couldn’t share in – but she was a piece of the whole nonetheless.

It was as if, even though underneath the surface Naruto’s agape loyalty was dueling with Sasuke’s manic attachment, the pragmatic side of love was shared between all three of them, and their relationship would crumble without her. Somehow it had gone unacknowledged, at least aloud, that she was as precious to them as Kazuki and Hitomi. A bond stronger than friendship and lesser than lover, but still a lifetime partnership.

 

14\. Weddings and Funerals

It was a beautiful day.

It shouldn’t have been.

It should have been riddled with dark clouds, muggy and suffocating, not quite raining but ominous and heavy, as if the sky might unleash a torrent upon them any minute.

But then again, Kakashi had always been contrary. Why should his funeral be any different?

The former Team 7 had declined to speak at the service. They couldn’t find enough of their grief they thought outsiders deserved to hear of. And that’s what they were – outsiders. Nobody else had been through what they had with Kakashi-sensei. Their grief was inconsequential. How could they possibly know-

Sakura stopped herself, squaring her shoulders just a little more. She couldn’t think things like that. She could feel privileged all she wanted, but she couldn’t use circumstance to hold herself above others. Kakashi had been a great man and a great shinobi – people deserved to miss him as much as he deserved to be missed.

Naruto and Sasuke stood near her, their arms linked, eyes heavy and pained no matter how serene they appeared, and she knew she probably looked the same, though none of them had shed a tear since the service had started.

Kazuki stood in front of her, arm around his little sister. He was old enough now, at nine, to understand, but he was more upset by seeing his parents so distraught than by the loss of his occasional mentor. And he had the distraction of looking after Hitomi. She was more confused than anything else, right at the cusp of comprehension, and she dealt with the emotional overload the best way she knew how – crying. Sasuke tried to comfort her, but underneath the façade, he needed it as much as she did, so Kazuki would take over.

Sakura placed a hand on each child’s shoulder, rubbing gently, though she didn’t bother trying to decipher whom she was comforting. They both looked up at her, and Hitomi’s wide, wondering eyes and Kazuki’s tired ones told her it was going to be one of those nights spent with the five of them cuddled together, and maybe the youngest two would sleep.

 

15\. “Other things may change us, but we start and end with family.” – Anthony Brandt

Sakura giggled, rolling over onto her side.

“No really,” Naruto was saying. “How does it look?”

“Like you lost a fight with a roll of toilet paper,” Sakura gasped out.

There was a snort from her other side and Naruto joined her on the ground, laughing at Sasuke’s now sake-stained front.

“If the village could see their Hokage abusing his robes like this…” he trailed off.

“Then they would think I hadn’t changed a bit.” Naruto sipped at the sake he grabbed from Sasuke, and Sakura in turn sat up to take it from him and knock back her own gulp.

The night was lit by stars and fireflies, and by their own giddy smiles, the smell of alcohol growing thicker around them. They hadn’t done this in far too long. Years.

Years since Kazuki graduated from the Academy, the same year Hitomi entered.

Years since Kenichi of Kakashi’s team and Kichirou of Naruto’s were killed in action, the same year Sasuke took on his first genin team.

Years since Naruto was made Hokage, the same year Hitomi’s Sharingan activated.

Years since Sakura’s civilian lover was targeted and killed, the same year the shinobi world began to recognize her as a kunoichi separate from Tsunade-hime.

Years since Kiba had become the first male head of his clan for generations and Ino joined T+I, the same year Tenten retired from ANBU and Naruto took the first steps toward reuniting the Hyuuga branches.

And now here they were again. Team 7. A reckless prankster now accustomed to responsibility. An intelligent longer now open to emotion. And her. The mediator. The girl stuck in the middle.

They’d come a long way. Their first few missions as a team, those early days of awkward shyness, stuttering, loudmouthed and scathing give-and-takes, and the sheer absurdity of their youth and inability was laughable.

The strange thing was how the funniest memories were the ones that made her want to cry the most. They kept returning to nostalgic moments, masochistic in the best sort of way, on these sake-filled nights on top of the likeness of Naruto carved into rock. Returning in their minds to before that first Chuunin exam, when all their lives were set into motion. Before life had happened and had come so close to pulling them apart.

Holding on hurt. It had hurt so much. She and Naruto, separately and together, had wanted to break so much, had known the bittersweet relief waiting just on the other side of giving up, but choosing to _not_ had been the hardest and easiest decision to make.

And it had landed them here.

Together.

From beginning to end, there are some bonds that just can’t be broken.


End file.
